Eternal Vow: A Fall Before You Rise Again
by Springbox
Summary: The elves are a defeated people; they were slaves, now impoverished abused servants or vagrant wanderers in a world that looks down upon them. In the places untouched by man however an ancient force awakens and they are angry. AU from Origins onward.


Dragon Age - Eternal Vow: A Fall Before You Rise Again 

**Disclaimer: All right to Bioware and EA.**

"This is our land, our home. It is ours from time unremembered to future unknown. It's soil and rivers our life blood and second mother - to protect and be protected. To give life but also to take. To nurture, never to violate. It's children - a gift both precious and loved. Thus I hereby vow to uphold my promise, til duty release me. I will not falter, I will not relent. This is our land, our home - our Elvhenan"

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Chapter 1: Night-time Visitor and Cake

9:34 Dragon

It was a long and frustrating day at court for Queen Anora Theirin of Ferelden as she climbed the stairs of the palace to the royal wing late on a very miserable night in Denerim. Each drop of rain that hammered against the panes of glass mirroring the increased pounding of her head as she gently massaged her temples as went. The problems just kept piling up that she darkly wondered if they would ever recover from the wounds the blight had inflicted upon Ferelden. It was not helped by the nobility whom seemingly cared more for their needs and petty games than that of the nation that Anora felt like she was the only person in the kingdom who wished to restore what was lost.

 _"I swear I feel like I'm presiding over a court of jesters and children"_ she mused in semi amused frustrations remembering Arl Eamon's grandstanding, Bann Ceorlic weasel like demeanour and the grand cleric throwing in her two bits of 'wisdom'.

It was not really as bad as that but it was slow going, large portions of the south were tainted so bad that it would take years or possibly decades if they were lucky before the land was fertile again but there was the bleak chance that the land would be forever lost like the Western Approach in Orlais or the vast areas of the Anderfels. As a result a majority of the nation's food had to be imported from her neiborbering countries such as Orlais and the Free Marcher states putting an almost crippling hold on Ferelden's economy which was running almost entirely on IOU's and the goodwill of Thedas for ending the Blight on their own. So it was a race against time to make her nation as independent as possible before that goodwill ran out and the growing debt left the nation destitute or worse - beholden that Anora worked herself and her people as hard as she did.

Ferelden since the Blight was a nation that did not rest, everyone worked in some capacity for the betterment of the nation. Everyone of age was, by royal decree, required to undergo weapons training and basic soldiering should the nation require a quickly mobilised army before the military proper could be rebuild. The population was also taught to learn a trade to match their aptitude as the patriotic call for all of Ferelden's sons and daughter to help in the effort. It was a highly successful show of national zeal and common purpose that bought the classes and races of the nation together.

This show of solidarity was not without its problems however as centuries of racial altercation and ignorance between elves and humans and mages and non-mages did not simply disappear over a few years. Some humans, nobles in particular, resented Anora's elevation of the Elven people by appointing a rather passionate woman by the name of Shianni Tabris of Denerim the rank of 'Bann of the Alienage' not that any of them did so publically considering whom her cousin was. There was also Anora's praise of the circle of magi for their efforts during the Blight that the Chantry did not care for - not that the Chantry disagreed per-say but centuries of dogma breeds predicable reactions. The biggest pill that most had trouble swallowing was the ceding of the Korcari Wilds to the Dalish of Clan Mala Revas for their aid - whereas some thought it too much others thought it fitting that a people without a home receive one for their courage. All this was a moot point regardless as Anora enacted these boons of gratitude at her coronation with her biggest ally standing beside her and non dared speak out and Anora knew it was best to spend political capital quickly on issues like these.

All these issues aside, they seemed to pale in comparison to the never-ending fixation in the kingdom lacking a heir - a black mark that had haunted Anora since her marriage to Cailain. It was one of the major drawbacks to her taking her throne in the first place - thanks in no small part to a certain opportunist from Redcliff. Luckily for her she found an ally, and later friend, in a certain elf whom shared her opinion that a queen is more than just her child-bearing ability and was completely unwilling to give up her love to a throne he did not desire. Besides as her friend pointed out why should she be so quick to shoulder the blame when Cailian's mistress did not produce a child either.

Anora smiled to herself remembering a conversation she had with Emelyn in the summer past; "So I hear that ol Eamon is nagging at ya to find ya're-self a beau to knock boots with so ya can get up da duff." Emelyn stated as they were having tea in the royal garden one fine afternoon causing the queen to choke on her tea. Setting her cup down quickly as she continued to choke whilst her friend laughed at her misfortune Anora tried her best to clear her clogged throat - once she did she send an un-amused glare to the elf across from her. Though in truth, Anora greatly enjoyed Emelyn's brash and open personality, it was a breath of fresh air to a woman whom spend her whole life around prim, proper and very boringly stuffy nobles - Cailan and Fergus Cousland being the exceptions.

"Emelyn! Must you be so crass" exclaimed a scandalised looking Anora, who quickly turned her head left then right so quickly she was surprised she did not get whiplash in her hast to confirm no one was around. It would not do to rumours of that sort running around even if most were thinking it.

All of Ferelden's internal problems aside a sizable amount of Anora's bane came from outside her borders and in the form of two major dangers; the first was the rising discontent and bravado of one Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, cousin of Empress Celene of Orlais whose altercations with his cousin were getting more and more heated especially concerning Gaspard's claims of Celene weakening the empire through her insistence of diplomacy and trade rather than glory and conquest especially in the reclaiming of the 'lost' province of Fereldan. Her father may be dead but his passion in protecting Ferelden was not, the only difference being that Anora vowed that she would not let that passion morph into blind obsession thus she held regular council sessions with her military and political advisors to maintain peace and warming of relations between the two nations but not at the expense of theirs. In a great sense of irony one of her biggest assets in this endeavour was Arl Eamon of Redcliff, who once tried to depose of her, due to his marriage to Isolde, a noble of high family in Orlais and the trade ties between them. Diplomacy and trade and not war were ideals that both monarchs respected and it didn't hurt that that respect also applied to the two women themselves so Anora felt that their was hope so it was in Ferelden's interests that she support Celene as best she could.

The second headache Anora faced was the growing tensions between the mages and their Templar overseers most notably in Orlais and the Free Marches especially Kirkwall if the reports she was receiving was any indication.

Heaving a heavy sigh of relief as she arrived at her bedchamber door Anora pushed the door open and stepped inside determined to put the troubles that surround her aside til the morning. Making her way through the lavishly, but tastefully, decorated room with a clashing décor of traditional Fereldan practicality and ostentatious Orlaisain flair Anora reached her vanity and sat down. Lifting her tired arms she began pulling the pins that held her golden hair in those severe plaits and placing them on the table not even bothering with the beloved jewellery box her parents gifted her on her sixteenth name-day. With each pin removed the move relaxed she became as many ladies of court had commented on her choice of hair style was not in the least comfortable but the discomfort did serve its purpose in projecting the image of regal pose.

With the final pins removed she hilted her head back moaning in pleasure causing her hair to fall like golden sunrays pass her slender shoulders and down her back. With her eyes still closed she reached for her hair brush and started running it through her long silken tresses as the storm grew in temperance outside. Once finished with her nightly ritual Anora set the brush down and marvelled at how good it felt to once again do these things for herself instead of Erlina who was still recovering from a stomach bug that was gripping the city so she valuing this time alone while it lasted. As she rising from her seat the hairs on back of her neck stood on end just before she felt the cool kiss of a blade on her throat causing her eyes to widen in fear then a strong hand gripped her hair and pulled her head back roughly exposing more of the vulnerable flesh the dagger was pressing against. Sitting her seat wavering in fear Anora stared into her mirror watching as she was being held someone wearing darkened leather armour with a very foreign look to it - even in the low light of her bedchamber she could make out the looping leaf and vine pattern of dark green and gold running along the front of the black gauntlet that held the beautifully crafted blade of exotic design.

Her heart beating frantically in her chest and unable to look away from the mirror Anora continued to stare at her visage, her life to be decided by the unknown assailant behind her who remained still. Was he or she an assassin sent by her rivals, either at home or aboard, to murder her for some reason or another. Were they seeking revenge for past transgression or was it theft and she was in the way.

A few minutes passed with them staying that way, the tension slowly rising even more and the only sounds being Anora's haggard breathing and the storm raging outside. Thinking she had nothing to lose Anora looked at a her would-be assassin in their cowl covered face through the mirror hoping their hesitation was more to indecision than prolonging her torment.

"Can I ask why you're doing this?" she asked softly so as to not break this quiet but terrifying silence to much. She was meet with silence, the assassin nor the blade at her throat moved. Swallowing heavily causing the blade to press a little tighter against her skin as a result ran home the point even more how perilous a position she was in.

"Did someone pay you?" she inquired quickly to take her racing mind of cool metal and its touch on her pulsing neck. Not that the question was one thrown out their there to extend her rapidly twiddling lifespan but a genuine one that held real merit as this would not be first threat against her life merely the first, and successful, attempt. Yet again however she was met with nothing but empty silence.

 _"What in the Maker's name is going on. Why go this far then stay your blade?"_ the queen thought with mounting frustration at the many questions building in her head and not one answer forthcoming from either her assassin or her well honed deductions - it was maddening and terrifying.

"Was it something I did?" she posed more strongly than she felt but her body was beginning to ache from the stiff posture she had assumed since this strange one-sided conversation began. That and she was also starting to sheen with sweat, it clung to her head, her neck and more intimate and not in a good way the longer this went on and she was getting really uncomfortable and when that happens Anora lashes out. This got a reaction but not the one she was hoping for as the assailant seemed to snap to attention as if breaking out of some sort of trance causing the blade to cut lightly across the side of her neck before they controlled themselves once more but still did not speak.

Wincing at the burning pain that danced across the side of her neck Anora fought back the tears that had come with the blade slicing her skin and for a moment, just a moment she thought she was on her was to the makers side much earlier than she expected.

"Please, please tell me..if it was something I did. Maybe I could..." she pleaded, the full weight of mortality suddenly bearing down on her and offering her an almost clarity of what her father meant by his statements regarding fleetingness of life. As a little girl, even as a woman, she never really understood her father's morbid and depressing outlook on certain things often chalking it down to the life he had lived as a solider and experiences that such a profession brings. Now, however, one could view her fathers words as a sort of remainder to live your life fully as you never know when the maker will come calling. Looking at it that way such an outlook could be seen as positive but at the moment that kind of epiphany was a moot point. The plead seemed to, again, fall on deaf ears as the recipient in question was not longer appearing to be only looking into the mirror they were casting glances at the open window that no doubt granted them access before snapping their head back to her. Was the person behind her having second thoughts or were they thinking now would be a good time to do the deed as the storm was calming down making such a suicidal escape easier. Questions, questions and more infernal questions and not one single answer to why her life was being made forfeit. The fear and frustration boiled over.

 _"Enough of this!"_

"I have a right to know why I'm about to die." she exclaimed hotly not caring when the blade was pressed a little deeper - creating another wound on her abused throat but the tension had reached its tipping point.

"Tell me!" she demanded again, glaring into the mirror at this bastard whom held her life.

"Answer me, damn you!" Silence

"If you're not going to answer tell just get it over with." More Silence but the invader was beginning to shake, the tension clearly getting to more than just her.

At any other time Anora would having been cunning about such a slip and exploited it but at that moment she was running on pure emotion and primal desire to live.

"Just do it damn it!" she choked as her voice broke on a sob as the turmoil of emotions finally claimed her as she welling in her blue eyes broke free and her body started trembling - the regal cold queen and the daughter of Fereldan's greatest general was stripped bare and all that was left was a scared woman wanting to live.

As tears blinded her vision and she choked for air at the futility of it all Anora waited for the death blow that would come when sadistic bastard deemed necessary. It was then that she heard a slow murmur of words that she could not make out before all went dark.

"Ir abelas Anora, Ir abelas" came the soft voice from the mask again as they looked down upon the queen of Ferelden laying spawned across her vanity, blood beginning to coat the counter and soaking her golden hair.

 _"It has to be done! Why? I made my choice"._ As the internal battle waged on the intruder finally moved from the spot they were rooted to and survey the room around them. The opulence of the this single room alone brought a sneer to the lips behind the mask in disgust before spotting the heavenly treat that on a small table set next to the bed. Licking their lips and unable to help stop the stranger walked over to the bedside table and lifted the plate then removed the plastic covering and smiled at what lay underneath - a delicious melting piece of chocolate cake. Throwing the cover on the bed and raising their left hand the chocolate thief removed his mask and sniffed happily.

"Chocolate cake Emma lath" he breathed like a lover greeting his mate, such was his love for the sinful delight.

With a smile he picked up this piece of perfection and took a bit then moaned in a lustful manner. After savouring each bite he ran his finger across the plate gathering up all the remaining crumbs and chocolate before setting the plate down on the table once more. With that done he cast his eyes over to the queen once more and sighed slowly as he was still conflicted at what he had just done.

 _"No, it was the right thing to do!"_ he snapped at himself.

Walking back to the queen he raised his right hand and brushed the hair from her face before he studied the woman he was sent to kill. Raking his cobalt eyes over her face there was only one word that came to mind as his fingers traced his fingers absentmindedly along her soft jaw.

 _"Pretty. Wait what.."_ he thought snapping out of his daze as if struck by a lighting bolt. Straightening up and backing away he shuck his head at such a crazy thought of this human being attractive. Yes, she had acceptable features that any man, any human man, would appreciate - especially those blue eyes, framed by those long lashes but that was beside the point.

With a heavy groan the conflicted decided that it would be best that he simply leave now whilst the storm was mellow though apart of him was in no rush to report his 'failure' in this matter. There was simply one last thing to be done beforehand. The masked 'assassin' walked back to the queen, bent down and lifted her bridal style in his arms to her bed - then haphazardly pulling back the covers whilst balancing the woman on the edge of the bed before laying her back and tucking her in. Standing back to look over her one last time he finally noticed the thin cuts from his blade.

"Shit" he cursed at the amateurish performance tonight before banishing the sloppiness til later. Raising his right hand once more he touched her neck and closed his eyes as the room was softly engulfed in yellow. Once finished he stepped back from the now unharmed woman before turning to walk to the window without looking back - only once on the sill did he cast his eyes one last time on her sleeping form then shut the window.

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 **Author's Note(s):**

This is a tale that has been bouncing around my head for years that I want to put on 'paper' for myself if nothing else because whenever I play DA myself I always find myself remembering it. I'm not very happy with this chapter as I feel it's missing something but feel it's a respectable opening to the tale. Now if you will excuse me I have a craving for chocolate cake.

Elven Words/Phrases;

Emma lath - My Love

Ir abelas - I'm Sorry

 **All chapters are subject to changes if deemed necessary.**


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